Freefall (27 page)

She didn’t sound pissed. Just tired.

I didn’t answer her question because I didn’t know the answer. I was thinking that maybe I’d done it because it would have hurt too much not to. But the booze hadn’t made things better. I was still suspended, Carr had still come out ahead, and I still didn’t have Rosetta. Basically, I was a loser all around. A loser who’d spent an hour throwing
up in my front yard until Mom found me there and dragged my ass inside.

“Your guidance counselor thinks that what happened to Isaac has affected you more than you’re willing to let on,” Mom said. “Is that what this is about? Is it why you were fighting at school? And getting fall-down drunk?”

The way she was fidgeting and bouncing her legs, I could tell she was having a hard time asking these questions. Not as hard a time as I was having trying to answer, though.

I rolled onto my back and stared at the ceiling. Jared had helped me stick glow-in-the-dark stars up there when we were kids, and over the years, all but three had fallen off. “Things just suck sometimes, okay?” I said.

“Okay?” Mom prompted.

“Rosetta’s pissed at me. And I was suspended. And Isaac. Definitely Isaac. And I just . . . I don’t know how to make any of it
not
suck.”

“Well, you’re not doing yourself any favors with the alcohol binging. You need to find a better way to escape. What about using your music? You have that gig coming up with your new band in a couple of days to get ready for.”

“That isn’t going to
help
,” I said, sitting up and meeting her gaze. “I don’t even want to play that show. I’m stressed as hell about it.”

“Baby, you
are
gonna play it,” she insisted. “And you’re going to be amazing too.”

I shook my head. “Mom—”

“You
just focus the next two days on getting yourself ready to perform. Put all your energy, every single thought and feeling you’re having, into those songs. And then, when you’re onstage, you can just let it all out.”

Like Xander and Taku, she was talking like it was easy. I’d never once thought of a live performance as something I could use to distract myself from other things. But I didn’t want to get into it with her, so I just said, “All right, I’ll try.”

Mom raked her fingers over her hair. “I know this has been a hard few months for you. There was never a dull moment with Isaac, and after he was gone, it got so quiet around here. You and Kendall turned into zombies.”

Kendall. Just being reminded of her made me want to never leave my room again.

Mom went on. “It was hard for me to see you go through that. I kept wishing there was some way I could make it easier for you.”

“Why should it have been easy?” I asked. “Isaac
died
, Mom. And a week later, no one even seemed to care. Jared wanted to get back to band rehearsals. Daniel wanted me to drive him around and party with him all the time. It was like everyone thought I should just hurry up and get over it.”

She shook her head. “Nobody thought that, I promise you. You just didn’t want to talk about it, so we were all
trying to make a new kind of normal for ourselves. And for you, too.
Especially
for you. Isaac was your best friend. The only reason he was in our lives was because he was in yours.”

“And Kendall’s,” I said, practically choking on her name.

“Okay. Kendall’s, too. But not one of us would have put up with Isaac just for her.”

Mom was partway smiling, but I knew she meant it. And she was right; sometimes Isaac
was
the type of person who had to be “put up with.” He did tons of stupid shit.

God. Like me. Pushing Kendall in that parking lot.

“Oh, speaking of Kendall,” Mom said. “She stopped by here looking for you after school. I thought you were at the car wash, so I sent her there.”

I wanted to pretend like nothing had happened, like I hadn’t even seen Kendall. But Mom was going to find out the truth no matter what; she needed to hear it from me.

“She found me at the river, actually.”

“Oh, good,” Mom said. “Is that how you got home without your car?”

“No.” I couldn’t bring myself to look at her, so I studied my comforter instead. “Actually, we sort of . . . got into it. Arguing and everything. I, um, pushed her on the ground and she drove off and took my keys with her. I ended up walking home after that.”

Silence.

I waited. Only to hear . . .

More silence.

Finally I glanced up. Mom had tears in her eyes.

Shit.

On top of everything, now I was making my mom cry. “Mom, I’m
sorry
! I feel like a complete—”

“
What
is that girl’s problem?” she interrupted. “I can’t believe she’d leave you like that!”

I stared at her. I’d just told her I’d roughed up a girl, and she was blaming
her
for it?

“Tomorrow,” Mom said, sniffing. “Tomorrow I’m going to have a little chat with Miss Kendall about this.”

I shook my head. “I was being a jerk. She
should
have left me.”

“But after Isaac, I would have thought she would make sure to look out for you! You weren’t in any shape to get yourself home. You could have fallen in the river and drowned. Or been hit by a car.”

One of those things could have happened to me, maybe. But it wasn’t Kendall who had made me chug all that Southern Comfort. Or refuse a ride. Or shove her on the ground. Those were things I did. Choices
I
made.

“After Isaac,” I said, “I think Kendall’s done taking care of drunk assholes and getting pushed around and puked on.”

Mom opened her mouth like she was maybe going to keep arguing, but this time I interrupted
her
. “If something had happened to me, it would have been my fault. Not Kendall’s. Okay, Mom?”

Slowly, she nodded. Then she leaned in and pulled me into a tight hug.

I was pretty sure she understood.

And now, finally, I did too.

10:52
P.M.

There were less than twenty-four hours until the Good Times gig, and all I wanted was sleep. Actually, “wanted” is the wrong word. I
needed
it. Instead, I was channel-surfing on the couch, all wound up with nerves, nerves, nerves.

Xander had come up with a strategy to distract Brody from his stage fright, and I’d listened in and stolen it for myself. It mostly involved breathing slowly, imagining over and over again playing a successful show, and keeping busy on the day of until heading down for sound check. I wasn’t so sure this corny New Age shit was going to work, though. Which meant I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Maybe if Xander had come up with a plan for how Brody could keep himself distracted from worrying about the plan,
then
I’d be getting some sleep here.

The phone on the end table rang. I grabbed it in a big hurry, hoping, hoping, hoping it was Rosetta finally returning one of my calls. “Hello?”

There was a bunch of laughter coming from the other end. “Is this Seth McCoy?” asked some ditzy-sounding chick.

Damn it.

“Who’s this?” I asked, suspicious.

A pause. More laughing. Loud voices.

“Look, Seth,” she said over the noise. “Daniel’s at Eric Kingman’s and he wants you to get over here.”

I groaned. Daniel had wasted no time hooking up a delivery for a party on the Hill. This time whatever he’d taken was small enough to fit in his jacket pocket, so he hadn’t needed a ride from me. Which had been perfect as far I was concerned; I was in no mood for a party.

“So are you coming?” the girl asked.

“No. Tell Daniel I’m sleeping.”

Without bothering to cover the receiver, she yelled. “He says he isn’t coming! He’s trying to sleep!”

A few seconds later, Daniel was on the line. “Listen, Dick. You need to get over here. I’m serious.”

He sounded cagey, and my heart beat faster. “Why? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong. Just get in the car and drive your ass to Eric’s.”

Now
I was getting pissed. “Daniel, if you need me to pick you up, just say so. You don’t have to try to freak me out.”

“I don’t need a ride.
What I need is for you to hurry because there’s someone here who wants to see you.”

Daniel had to be talking about Rosetta. Who else on the Hill would want to see me?

I had more questions, but before I could ask, there was a
click
and silence. I set the phone down and went to my room to throw some jeans on, planning what I would do when I saw Rosetta.

I didn’t entirely blame her for not returning my messages over the past two days; she needed time to cool off and think things over, I figured. But maybe seeing me in person would speed things along. Maybe she’d be willing to hear me out. I knew the truth about Kendall and Carr and the truth about Kendall and me. If I told Rosetta, she’d have to see that I deserved another chance.

11:12
P.M.

When I walked in the front door at Eric’s, the party was in full swing with all the major ingredients in place: a bunch of kids, a bunch of noise, and a bunch of beer.

Usually, I wouldn’t be too worried over crashing a Rich Bitch Hill party, but tonight was different. It was the first time I’d ever shown up by myself. It was also the first time I’d been suspended for fighting with one of their own. Finding Rosetta was my number one priority, but avoiding getting my ass kicked was high up there too. It was anyone’s guess which—if either—I’d be able to pull off.

I
headed to the kitchen first out of habit, I guess. About ten kids drinking from red plastic cups were leaning against the counters. They stopped talking midconversation to stare at me. And then they didn’t start talking again.

Yeah,
this
was going to go well.

Rosetta wasn’t with them, so I rushed on. In the dining room, Brittany, Tara, and some other chicks were hanging out, and they all turned to watch me too, probably just checking out the damage from my fight with Carr. The stares were making me self-conscious, but I figured it couldn’t hurt to ask for help. “I’m looking for Rosetta Vaughn,” I said in a loud voice. “Anyone know where she is?”

They all shook their heads, so I kept moving. Brittany came after me, yelling over the music. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a black eye that’s so . . .
black
before.”

“Yeah,” I said. “That’s about the only way to describe it, huh?”

From where we were standing, I could see into the living room or whatever it is that rich people call the room that has fancy furniture and no TV. No sign of Rosetta in there, either, but it was packed with people—including Eric and a bunch of football players—so I didn’t have the best view.

While I was trying to work up the guts to stroll over there, Brittany started talking again. “I just wanted you to
know, the way you stuck up for Kendall the other day was really cool. You were, like, her hero.”

My stomach twisted up and I stared at the floor. Of all the things Brittany could have said to me, that was probably the worst.

She went on. “And you were the only one calling Carr out on his crap, so you get lots of credit for that, too. He is a total sleaze as far as I’m concerned. I’m
glad
he lost his ASB position.”

“What? Why did he lose his position?”

“
Because
,” Brittany said, smirking, “starting a fight in front of the entire student body and having a suspension on your record is against the rules for our trusty school politicians. They’re supposed to be model students, you know.”

“Oh.” I pretended to consider for a few seconds. “Does this mean I’ve blown my chances at becoming president next year?”

Laughing, she smacked my arm. “Right, Seth,” she said, turning to go back to her friends. “I’m sure you were
completely
eligible before this happened.”

On my own again, I took a deep breath. Just that short talk with Brittany had drained me, but I had to do this. I maneuvered my way to where Pete Zimmer was kind of lounging on the back of a couch, cracking up while his pals told some loud story and reenacted a football play or something. I leaned around him to see if Rosetta was one of the girls on the couch. She wasn’t.

Pete was watching me. All I wanted at that moment was to get out of there, but I met his gaze. “Ouch,” he said, gesturing at his face while nodding toward mine.

Then a hand clamped down on my shoulder.

I jumped.

“McCoy, where’d you learn to fight?” Garrison asked, staring down at me. “My grandma could have landed a more solid punch than you.”

I waited—my whole body tense and unmoving—wondering if he was going to give a quick demonstration for everyone. But actually . . . he was smiling like he was only messing around, not like he was trying to start something with me.

“No kidding,” I said, relaxing somewhat. “I bet your
great
-grandma could have done it better.”

Everyone laughed. With me?
At
me? Honestly, I didn’t care.

“It’s the thought that counts, anyway,” Garrison said. “I’ve wanted to take Carr out for years, but I’ve never had a good enough excuse.”

My mind was blown that Carr wasn’t as friendly with these guys as I’d always thought, and that Brittany ranked Kendall higher than Carr. I didn’t know what to say, so I changed the subject to the one and only thing I cared about right then. “Have any of you noticed Rosetta around tonight?”

Pete shook his head. “I’ve seen her at exactly two parties in my life, and this isn’t one of them.”

There was still a chance she was hiding out, but it was a long shot. If I’d
stopped to think about it before, I’d have realized it had
always
been a long shot. Rosetta hated parties full of pod people.

“You’re in Brody’s band, right?” Pete said to me. “Aren’t you guys playing in the Valley tomorrow night?”

Like I wanted to talk about that right now. “Yeah. But, hey. What about Daniel? Have you happened to see him?”

“Behind you,” said Eric.

I turned.

“Glad you could make it, Dick,” Daniel said, grinning. “Now, if I’m not mistaken, you’ve got some unfinished business to attend to. How about if we go and get started on that?”